


i promise i'll love you if you do it for me

by quietcarnage



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Creepy Quentin Beck, Dark Peter Parker, Dead May Parker (Spider-Man), EDITH Glasses (Marvel), Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M, Manipulation, Manipulative Peter Parker, Peter Parker Has Issues, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Power Bottom Peter Parker, Rape Roleplay, Underage Drinking, Villain Peter Parker, Violence, psychopathic little shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:00:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27022405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietcarnage/pseuds/quietcarnage
Summary: One year after Tony's death, EDITH is finally active. According to Peter's sources, it's been given to hot new hero Mysterio, but it only takes a little bit of digging for Peter to find out he's a fraud. Which is a shame for the world, really.It's fortunate for Peter though, Mysterio was going to make a gorgeous addition to his growing collection of New York's favorite Spider-Man Villains. All he needs to do is get his hands on those glasses, and who could blame him really if he wanted to have a little fun along the way?
Relationships: Quentin Beck/Peter Parker
Comments: 12
Kudos: 104





	i promise i'll love you if you do it for me

The world wasn’t fair, Peter had come to terms with that ages ago. Between his parents’ passing, his aunt and uncle's deaths, getting powers from that field trip to Oscorp seemed like the best way to get the recognition he so craved. That all came crashing down once he found that the Avengers were ignoring him too though. Iron Man was nice enough to warn him about the dangers of revealing his identity and being a public figure-slash-superhero, but he was the only real hero that ever contacted or even got close to him in any sense. The only real hero or _person_ to ever pay Peter Parker any mind. Not that it mattered anymore. 

The fact was, Peter Parker was still a loser with no friends at school and to top it all off, that damn newspaper was spreading misinformation on Spider-Man’s heroic deeds. Who even used the word ‘menace’ anymore?

Well, in all fairness, the paper wasn't wrong, but that didn’t make it any less annoying. 

On a more positive note though, the plus side of the Avengers ignoring him was that the intelligence agencies were as well. He continued to hold his reputation as nothing more than a small time neighborhood hero Tony had recruited once, and no one knew anything more. Stark made sure of that, back when he still believed the doe-eyed lies Peter spilled from his lips. 

Hell, he was pretty sure he wasn’t anywhere even close to SHIELD’s radar for threats. Barely anyone knew who Spider-Man was… _for now,_ but with his… extracurricular activities, that tended to work out in his favor. 

Unfortunately though, with Tony’s death, there was a perfect, hero shaped void left in the world and with people desperate for protection, Peter couldn’t resist stepping up. 

After merely weeks of a mole of his subliminally hinting towards Spider-man, Nick Fury finally reached out and recruited him. This of course, put him back on SHIELD’s radar, but as a hero this wouldn’t be an issue at all. In fact, it just meant he was going to have to go with the plan to win SHIELD’s trust. 

Keeping SHIELD in his pocket wouldn’t just be good for his hero shtick. They just also happened to have something of his that he desperately needed back.

It had already been nearing a year since the battle for the gauntlet and Tony’s death, and yet EDITH still hadn’t surfaced. None of his people could dig up any information on the glasses even existing, but Peter knew it was there in SHIELD’s custody. It was just a matter of time. 

And he had plenty of it. 

That time seemed to come faster than anticipated with the appearance of a new hero. He called himself ‘Mysterio’. 

He wasn’t anything special, really. Just another do-gooder with a hard on for justice and a dramatic hero complex. No one knew who he was, or where he was from, but he had a cape and lasers, so everyone was on board the moment his handsome ass touched down in Mexico that summer, just in time to defeat the fucking weather.

He was a large, strong, capable and trustworthy looking man that already saved a few different cities throughout the world from elemental attacks. And he was selling the hero look harder than anyone else Peter had ever seen. 

He had to meet him.

When he found out that the next weather elemental was set to appear in Venice, Italy that summer, Peter knew what to do. 

According to Peter’s informant from deep within SHIELD, Mysterio had been _given_ the EDITH glasses. He was transferred controls over in Europe, which meant that the glasses were really, physically there.

And just like that, the pieces were in place. EDITH was in play.

It took a few strings being pulled, and a few very late nights in the school science labs with one very helpful, very persuadable Doctor Connors, but he was able to coerce a science-based field trip in Europe with his classmates all at the school's expense without much issue. Normally, he hated having to bend over for any of his subordinates, especially when he had other options.

But really, any time he got to spend riding Lizard cock was time well spent. Did you know lizards have _two_ dicks? That was a hell of a surprise.

Things began moving quickly from there. The school trip would surely place them in Venice during the elemental attack, there was no doubt Mysterio would appear to fight it, and since he was going to be bringing his Spider-Man suit, it was inevitable that they would meet.

The original plan for the EDITH glasses, Peter had figured, was that after he’d wormed his way into SHIELD’s trust he’d then make a play for EDITH himself, but with them just being _handed_ to Mysterio, well, that just made his job much easier. 

There were certain security protocols in place. For anyone else wanting access to EDITH’s full capabilities, those security protocols had to be lifted, otherwise, EDITH’s power was incredibly limited. But that wouldn’t matter. They didn’t apply to him. Peter would know, seeing as he had put them there himself. All he needed was a retinal scan.

As soon as he got a hold of them, all he’d have to do was put on what was rightfully his. In the meantime, all he had to do was wait. 

So he waited.

-

A little known fact to not only SHIELD, but the Avengers themselves was that he had actually been quite closer to Tony than anyone really knew. Ever since the man had enlisted him to fight his war in Germany at the ripe age of 15, they remained in contact. Tony seemed to pick up on how dangerously smart he was, and kept him in his back pocket to pick at his brains on a rainy day. He was Stark's little protege, and no one even knew.

If they did, they’d start asking questions. Ones Tony didn’t have any good answers to. Like ‘why did you bring a kid into a warzone?’, or ‘why is the coding for the world's most dangerous defense AI programmed by a 16 year old?’

Regardless of why he did it, Stark kept his promise and never revealed his identity. As far as the world was concerned, Peter Parker and Spider-Man were two entirely separate entities. 

That was all besides the point. For now, he had a school trip to pack for. When he returned, he’d have the glasses. And then everyone would see Spider-Man for who he truly is.

A hero.

One who would do anything to protect his city from threats like… say another alien invasion, or tears in reality. He wouldn’t have to rely on Norman’s dumb goblin suit, or the Rhino’s poor excuse of a ‘wreck’. He could do so much more.

The only limit would be his imagination.

-

Europe was a blast. He was sure his classmates were having a great time, and maybe he would be too, were he not so hyper fixated on the Venetian canals. The rumored water elemental would be making an appearance soon, and he needed to be alert enough to not only change into the Spider-Man suit, and swoop in to save the day, but leave enough time to introduce himself to Mysterio as well.

He was just beginning to think that Norman got the dates mixed up for the rumored attack when bubbles began appearing in the otherwise calm waters.

Showtime.

The water began to rise and fall, pushing boats out of the water and dragging them back in towards a swirling vortex. The massive elemental had just begun to rise when Peter had finally gotten a chance to sneak away and strip into his suit, swinging around a building, mask snapped on. 

Just as he suspected, Mysterio emerged from a mystical swirl of clouds in the sky, heroically swooping into battle, complete with snappy water-based one-liners. 

“Excuse me, sir! I can help!” Peter shouted over the roar of the waters, “I’m really strong, a-and I’m sticky!”

“We need to lead it away from the canals!” Mysterio shouted back, flying off before Peter could say any more. He mentally cursed himself for missing the chance to introduce himself in his attempt to come off as naive, childish. Oh well, he was prepared to be in it for the long game after all.

Regardless, he followed the caped hero, webbing up and blocking areas to corral it onto dry land, allowing Mysterio to finish it off with whatever the hell he was shooting out of his hands. It was a brilliant display of a team effort, and Peter was sure to make it profoundly clear how beautifully they worked together. 

A bell tower had fallen during the battle, causing significant casualties, but other than that, they seemed to have saved a ton of people and properties from being lost to the water.

“Now that that’s over…” Peter turned towards Mysterio, hand extended, only to see the man give a saluting wave to a group of civilians watching nearby , before flying off and disappearing into the sky.

He hadn’t gotten a chance to introduce himself.

Which meant that Mysterio didn’t introduce himself either.

Which meant that he didn’t have a trackable name.

As much as he wanted Mysterio to know who he was, _he_ wanted to know who _Mysterio_ was. There had to be _someone_ behind the mask. And that someone had to have exploitable weaknesses. Weaknesses that could lead Peter down the fastest, most painful road to getting his hands on EDITH dearest.

But he didn’t have that now, so all he could really do was swing off somewhere quiet, slip his civvies back on, and catch up with his frightened classmates.

-

As expected, Fury took notice of his presence, and his collaborative effort with Mysterio in defeating the elemental. He returned to his hotel room, one that he shared with a classmate that would not shut up about Star Wars. Ned, his name was.

Whatever happened, Ned was interrupted in the middle of his comparisons between a film and their reality when he suddenly went quiet. Too quiet. Followed by a light thud.

“We need to talk, _Spider-Man_.”

Peter closed the hotel room door behind himself softly, eyes following the assumed projectile of the sleep dart lodged in his classmates neck to a dark corner of the shoddy hotel, where one unmistakable form sat, laxed, one hand on the dart gun, the other on his eyepatch. “Fury,” he greeted. “How’d you find me?”

“Doesn’t matter. Come with me.” 

“It _does_ matter. Do you know my name? Mr. Stark said he’d keep my identity a secret from _everybody._ Do you-”

“-just your first name. Peter. We have you listed in our files as just Spider-Man, however your uh, friend wouldn’t stop asking questions like ‘where’s Peter?’ and ‘what have you done to Peter”. It’d be hard not to connect the dots.” Fury loosely gestured to his classmate’s slumped form, snoring in his Star Wars pajamas, toothbrush still clutched in his hand.

“Not my friend. Why are you here?”

There was a boat waiting for them outside. As soon as Peter got his suit on, they were on their way to Fury’s secure location, where he promised a briefing of his duties should he choose to accept them. 

The secure location was some tunnels below the city, a wide array of SHIELD agents and technology galore. No signs of EDITH, but there was one very familiar caped figure hunched over a meeting table. It was Mysterio, no doubt about it. He’d recognize those biceps anywhere.

“-and this, is Mr. Beck.”

There was the beginnings of a name, finally.

“I’m Peter.” He beamed.

As he held his hand out shyly, he could practically see the hunger in Beck’s eyes. Peter was fully aware that he still had that boyish charm to him. One that made people want to take advantage of the budding superhero before they even got the chance to see the truth beneath that awkward smile. Tony said it was his best asset, one that allowed him to get away with murder. He was right about that. What he hadn’t known at the time, was that it was also a look that allowed him to manipulate, to practically run crime in New York, and control all the pieces as well.

He knew what Beck was trying to do. That Beck was trying to do exactly what Peter had done to New York City’s villains, but to heroes instead. A noble, ambitious effort, but from one fraud to another, it was glaringly obvious what the con was up front.

A good setup would ensure that no one would ever find out or even suspect the big man behind the operation. With the dozens of villains rampant in the city, SHIELD’s best bet so far was that it was Norman in the center, as the man running New York's villains was presumed to be a villain himself. It worked out perfectly for the both of them. It kept Peter out of the spotlight, and fed into Normie’s narcissism and look-at-me attitude. With Beck, it couldn’t be more obvious that he was the brains behind his operation when he was the only piece on the board.

“Peter, that’s a good name.” Beck’s voice brought him back to the present, the previous darkness behind his eyes now hidden behind determined, soldier-like stances and confident one-liners. Beck was probably a theater kid.

The long and short of the meeting was that Peter was to help SHIELD and Mysterio defeat the remaining fire elemental before the end of the summer. Easy enough.

They got to talking after their introductions. ‘Mysterio’ was supposedly some soldier from another dimension’s Earth, which, honestly, bull. 

He had some whole convoluted story about his family and his _entire world_ being killed by a fire monster. The fact that Fury just… _believed_ him without question was enough for Peter to feel confident in the success of his own mission.

The rest of the briefing, Peter only barely paid attention. He didn’t need to. If he was right, as he so often was, and Beck really was faking it all, then the elementals had to be fake too. There was no real danger to the earth. All he had to do to gain his trust was sit pretty, and keep staring at Beck as if he hung the moon himself.

In retrospect though, that would prove to be quite easy.

Mysterio, for a lack of better words, was absolutely gorgeous. He had these huge, trusting blue eyes, perfect hair, his green scaled under armour looked like it was vacuum-sealed to his body to shape those _biceps_. Ugh. He’d definitely have to try and get Beck to choke him later.

“-Peter!” Fury barked. 

Peter snapped into attention, tearing his eyes away from Beck to face the director. “Yes, sir?” Beck chuckled to himself. _Score_. 

“I said, will you be joining us in Prague?”

“I’ll be there, sir. I just gotta figure out how to get away from my class, and um-”

“Already taken care of. Mr. Beck will pick you up tomorrow morning. He’s your aunt's cousin, and you’ll be staying with him until your aunt is comfortable enough with you flying home safely, understood?” Peter looked up at Beck, who was clearly flattered by the earlier daydreaming. “U-understood.” 

“Distracted?” Fury raised an eyebrow. Peter sprouted a genuine blush. It was rare that he daydreamed about his targets. Though in all fairness, they were often of the much older, less attractive variety. General garden variety villains, if you would. Beck though, he was a whole different breed of dilf, capable of sending heat straight to Peter’s cock with a bite of his lower lip and a wink. What a tease.

“Sorry, sir.” He muttered, eyes never leaving Beck’s. He watched as Mysterio’s eyes darkened at the words they both knew they weren’t directed at Fury. “I’m listening.”

Peter broke eye contact first, casting his eyes down toward Beck’s lips, lingering before he turned to face the ground, swivelling on his heels and striding out of the tunnel, accompanied by a ‘Dmitri’.

“Bye, Mr. Beck.” He called over his shoulder.

“Just call me Quentin.”

-

Finding out more about Mysterio was smooth sailing from there.

He had revealed his full name, which was honestly a mistake on his part, seeing as a name was all Peter needed to dig up any and all dirt available on the man.

One peek at the Stark Industries classified files showed Quentin Beck’s employment, termination, and history of instabilities and temper tantrums. He had specialized in illusion tech, which actually explained the elementals quite well, as well as that special touch in EDITH’s code that allowed advanced holograms of the similar variety. Tony must have frankensteined some of Beck’s ideas into his own projects. It was scummy, but it did bring Peter great joy in knowing the golden hearted Iron Man was just as tainted as the rest of Peter’s crew.

The rest of the puzzle just fell into place after that, and it was obvious that his deduction had been painfully accurate. Beck was as much of a fraud as he was. Not only a fraud, but a former Stark Industries employee at that. He didn’t even have any real powers. 

He was mortal.

-

“Hi, Mr. Harrington, right? William Parker, May called you yesterday night, she sent me to pick Peter up.” 

Beck had shown up at the hotel lobby in a hawaiian shirt, baseball cap, and sandals. With socks. To anyone else, he looked like he could be someone's dad, but nothing about him particularly stood out. He was invisible. 

According to Agent Hill, however, he was ’May’s cousin’. The _real_ May was… well, only those who needed to know knew that she’d passed the same night his uncle had. As far as anyone else was concerned, she was ill, but very much so alive. His school included. “Oh, yes, yes I remember. Here, let me get the kid real quick- Peter! Pete are you up there?”

“I’m coming!” He yelled down the stairs. Shoving his mask in the suitcase, he zipped it up and headed down to meet the man, ignoring his hotel room mate’s goodbyes.

“Hey, kiddo, ready to go?” Beck smiled at him, holding his hand out. 

He put his hand in Beck’s. Harrington had already wandered off at that point, leaving Peter with a man he’d never met or heard of before, which was a bit concerning for his classmates. Great for him though.

“Y-your suitcase, Peter. I was going to help you with your suitcase…” Of course, he already knew that, but he was playing at an angle here. “Oh! Oh my god, I’m so sorry that’s so embarrassing.” Peter jerked his hand away, putting the light suitcase in its place.

Beck smiled reassuringly, almost his cheeks reddening at the flattering gesture. “It’s alright, c’mon now, big plans.” Beck clapped one hand on his back and led him out of the hotel. Peter leaned into his touch, smiling back up at the man. 

He couldn’t wait to see the fire elemental.

-

The elemental was a lot bigger than he’d anticipated, but for an illusion, it was incredibly impressive. From the heat radiating off of the creature to the fact that shooting webs at it would result in them catching on fire and burning up. It was almost perfect.

He had to get a hold of this tech. Or at the very least, get a hold of Beck.

He’d get one or the other. One way or another.

It seemed that whatever they threw at the elemental, just seemed to make it stronger. Mysterio hit it with a beam, sending it to the ground where it grabbed a hold of and absorbed the metal carousel-like structure, making it even larger than before. 

Despite the intensive heat from the monster, Peter figured it couldn’t hurt to test out how well the illusions worked. Besides, if he got burned, he’d heal.

He swung behind the creature landing out of sight from Beck. Pressing a hand forward, he felt for the molten surface of the elemental. It was hot, but tolerable, and the further he pushed his hand in, the more he realized there was no surface at all. The hologram wasn’t physical.

Mentally preparing himself to get burned, he took a step forward, walking right into the illusion to find all the drones and pixels running the show. There were hundreds, but at the end of the day, all the elemental was, was fragments of lights working together with bullets and pulses from drones. It was truly impressive, admiral really, how easily Beck had all of SHIELD fooled.

But not him. Never him.

“No… It’s too late.” Beck’s voice sounded off in his earpiece. Peter shot a web out to escape the hologram before his absence could raise any questions, and landed on a ferris wheel to level himself with Mysterio.

“What do you mean?” Peter asked. The illusion grew larger, lava and other molten liquids pooling in the streets. He tried his best to sound worried, but honestly he was more impressed than anything. He knew how it worked, but damn it still looked so lifelike that if he hadn’t literally just been inside, he’d have been fooled.

“Whatever happens…” The bowl-like helmet dissolved, allowing Peter to see Beck’s face as he gravely continued. “I’m glad we met.” He was definitely more than a touch dramatic. But he could work with dramatic. Kraven could attest to that. Loincloth-wearing fucker. Pants are not a difficult concept.

“Beck, what are you doing?”

“What I should have done last time.” Beck turned away, helmet hiding his face once more as a green light surrounded him, snaking around his form as he seemed to painfully power up. ‘No!”

Mysterio snapped his fingers with a yell, hurtling himself into the fire elemental. It began to glow green from where Beck had flown into its chest, crackling as it began to fall apart before finally exploding into a shimmer of dust.

Peter squinted from where he was perched on the ferris wheel. It had just occurred to him that there was no way Quentin Beck could fly. So Mysterio wasn’t just a costume, but that entire fight had been all illusions as well, and there was no way real-Beck would get close enough to be hit by a stray drone. He had been the only real person in the entire vicinity.

When he looked down again, he saw that Beck was left on the ground, his helmet now gone, along with the entire fire elemental. His cape was in tatters, and he had burn marks marring his perfect armor. He weakly propped himself up on his elbows. The only sign that he was alright and not dead.

“Beck!” He dropped to the ground, running and tripping over himself, tumbling towards the ground as well. He hadn’t meant to, but as many things tended to, it worked out in his favor, allowing him to fall right into the waiting arms of Mr. Beck. “I’m so glad you’re okay! When I saw you disappear into that fire monster, I-”

“It’s okay. I’m okay, see?” Beck rubbed his back. “Everything’s okay. You’re not gonna get rid of me that easily.” Beck smelled like a shower. And cologne. He smelled _good_. He smelled like he wasn’t just in a battle against a burning lava monster. With all his planning, one would think he’d at least make an effort to smell a little bit like sweat, especially if he was going to be working with a certain arachnid themed hero with known enhanced senses. This was just lazy. Or narcissism.

“I’m sorry,” Peter pried himself away, “I just met you, but… I’ve lost a lot of people in my life, I don’t think I can afford to lose any more.”

“Now if we’re done being cuddly…” Nick Fury’s voice cut in from behind them. Peter stood up quickly, folding his hands behind his back. Quentin stood up beside him, slower. “That was exemplary. From both of you. That was the last of them now, wasn’t it?”

“That was the last of them.” Beck confirmed.

“But not the last threat we'll ever face. We need to stay vigilant.” Fury nodded. “There's a void in this world for someone like you. Hill and I are going to Europol headquarters in Berlin tomorrow. You should join us.”

“Thank you. I might just take you up on that.” 

“That goes for you too, Spider-Man. Great work.”

“Thank you, sir.” Peter nodded.

An agent tapped Nick on the shoulder, whispering something into his ear. Fury nodded, and the agent walked away. “Minor change of plans. Beck, the EDITH glasses I gave you?” 

Peter froze.

“Yes, sir?” Beck looked up from where he now sat on the burnt stone.

He had nearly forgotten that Beck was in possession of EDITH. The possibility that the glasses could be nearby sent a thrill of excitement scurrying up his spine. Victory was within reach.

“We’re gonna need them back for a little while. US headquarters just discovered their mole, but he killed himself before we could get any information from him. We think ‘he’ may be closing in on us.”

Peter had to fight the urge to roll his eyes at the incompetence of his subordinates. Of course Jeffrey had been caught.

“What’s happening?” Peter piped up.

“Peter, how well did you know Tony Stark?”

“We met once. He took me to Germany, but uh, after that, not much.” He lied with ease.

“Did he ever mention anyone by the name of Parker?”

“No.” 

_“Anything I can do for you, kiddo?” Tony asked. His eyes were glued to the phone in front of him, scrolling mindlessly through his emails. Peter wasn’t even sure if Stark would hear him if he responded._

_“What do you mean?”_

_“In exchange. For your help with Cap. And for your secrecy.”_

_“Huh?”_

_“Didn’t help me from getting this shiner, but you did great out there. Totally exceeded my expectations, a real star. So what can I do for you? Money? A new apartment maybe? Your Aunt’s medical bills?”_

_As good as it sounded, what he wanted Stark couldn’t give him. But he could work around it._

_“Oh, no I couldn’t,” Peter held his hands up, “letting me hang out with the Avengers is enough, thank you though.”_

_“Come on, anything.”_

_“...can you keep a secret?”_

_“Shoot, kid.”_

_“I don’t tell anyone that you dragged a kid to Germany to fight Captain America, and in exchange, you make sure no one ever finds out my name. Fitzpatrick is gonna be on all my legal documents from here on out. No need to change school records and shit. Just make sure I’m not found easily.”_

_Fitzpatrick. He was sentimental, sue him._

_Tony looked a bit taken aback, a mildly horrified expression furrowed his brows as he stared in disbelief at how prepared and unexpected Peter’s request had been._

_“That’s so specific, it’s like you knew I’d ask. But sure, I can hack into a few government databases and change your legal name, why not? Saves us all 50 bucks.”_

_Peter shrugged, and let Tony type whatever he was typing into his phone. After a long beat of silence, Tony finally put the phone down. “Consider it done.”_

_“Thank you, Mr. Stark.”_

_Another long silence. Peter knew he’d been too forward with his request. Too cunning than he allowed himself to be around heroes, but he needed this done with those specific parameters. He needed to be able to continue his school life normally, he needed the government to be unaware of the name change. If he wanted to lead 3 different lives, he’d need 3 different names, it was that simple._

_Spider-Man, Parker, Fitzpatrick. Villains, heroes, civilians._

_“Look, I get why you’re doing it. You don’t want to be traced back to your aunt. I can feel you mulling it over from here. You don’t need to justify yourself.” Tony sighed. “I can tell you’re scared, and it’s okay. You’re doing the right thing, and protecting the ones you love. Nothing wrong with that.”_

_Peter only nodded, shoulders sagging in relief and realization that Stark seemed to think this had been a secret-identity based issue. He could use that._

_“Thank you, Mr. Stark. For protecting my identity.” He flashed a genuine smile._

_He could have done it himself, yes, but it would have taken much longer, and raised many more suspicions. This way, the suspicion fell on Tony, and now he had a secret identity explanation to boot._

_“And thank you, Mr. Fitzpatrick.”_

“EDITH has two absolute admins.” Fury continued. “Permissions can be distributed, for example, Stark allowed me to have them, and I in turn have given them to Beck, but an absolute can override all of these permissions and assume control. Our tech team here has been trying to find a way to block these, but they have proven nearly impossible. Not that it would matter. The only way for an absolute to gain control is to physically put them on. Understand?”

“Okay.” Peter nodded. He was only half listening, his mind wandering back to that car ride with Tony years ago. That car ride had been the door to many opportunities. A real relationship with a real hero, tech he could only dream of, and unlimited funding at that-

“Now, obviously Stark was an absolute. He developed the glasses. But it turns out he had a partner. They’re only listed in EDITH’s database as ‘Parker’. Our tech analysts have been following the coding trail Stark left behind as he worked on EDITH, and we can see him trying to eliminate Parkers admin rights for a week before all work ceased completely.”

Peter knew all of this already, of course. That car ride and fantasy could only last so long. He knew Tony found out about his true intentions with EDITH, he knew Tony tried to shut him out, but he already knew it’d never work. They established the absolute admins as a way to prevent hackers from revoking those permissions from either one of them. It was the only thing in EDITH’s entire code that was set in stone. Unchangeable. 

To be fair, he had anticipated it would happen. Tony was the only one who was ever able to get close enough. The only one who’d be able to see through those naive wide eyes and into something much more sinister beneath.

Too bad he found out too late to do anything about it, because a week after the discovery, Thanos sent a ship to New York looking for infinity stones. The rest is history.

“With all due respect, sir, I believe I can protect EDITH better than a glass case can.” Beck raised a brow. Peter snorted, hand flying up to cover his mouth immediately. 

He hadn’t meant to laugh, but the sudden and utter disrespect had just caught him off guard. He hadn’t counted on Beck wanting to keep them either, but it made sense. With EDITH, his illusions became much more realistic. With EDITH, he didn’t need to just fool Fury, he could fool the world. 

If Beck remained in control, this could work. Anything to keep EDITH on the field. They were already playing on the same side, Beck just didn’t know it yet.

“Sir, he’s right.” Peter said firmly. “Mr. Beck is really powerful, I’m sure he can protect them just fine.”

“I don’t think you two understand how important this is, especially you, Peter. This isn’t just a fancy pair of glasses, this is an AR defensive tactical intelligence system, not only capable of accessing the Stark Industries' global satellite network but also able to hack into nearly any computerized device. Do you understand how dangerous this can be in the hands of a criminal? If someone like Parker gets a hold of it, he won’t just be tough to catch. He’ll be impossible. Unstoppable.”

Peter nodded. He understood perfectly.

-

In the end, Beck was able to smooth talk his way into holding onto EDITH, god knew how, but Fury eventually let them go, saying he’d meet them at Europol. Beck invited him out for a drink then, and, well, how could he say no?

“We did good today, kid.” Beck softly smiled at him behind EDITH, eyes trusting with a hint of pride behind them. He truly was the epitome of heroic. Or at least, he acted that way. He’d put the glasses on as soon as fury turned away, having it take them to the nearest pub.

The way Beck was using EDITH, having her do trivial work that google fucking maps could do, Peter wanted to rip those glasses off his face, and take what was rightfully his then and there. Beck had no real powers, he couldn’t stop him. But that wouldn’t do. That wouldn’t be even the least bit satisfying, no, he needed Beck to give them to him. He needed Beck to surrender.

“Yeah! That was amazing!” Peter beamed up at him, mirror-practiced doe-wide eyes and an innocent smile as he sipped on his lemonade. "Just… wow, Mr. Beck, I still can’t believe this.”

He wanted it to hurt first. He wanted to _feel_ something.

He wanted to get fucked, and ruin Quentin’s life for daring to lie in a field he’d already mastered.

“Can’t believe what?”

“Well, just you. I get to work with a real hero like you, that's like, the coolest thing ever. The Avengers never let me work with them...” Peter squirmed in his seat, pouting over his drink and twirling the straw..

“Aw, you’re making me blush.” Beck laughed into his whiskey. 

“I mean it! I’m sick of everyone around me treating me like I’m a kid all the time. You make me feel like…” Peter looked down, “like an adult, y’know?”

Peter could see the almost predatory glint in Beck’s eyes. He didn’t blame him. He was really playing up the innocent-young-hero act, and fuck it he knew he looked good. 

There was no way Beck would willingly hand over an asset as powerful as the glasses, not yet anyway, that would happen in due time. Hell, that would happen whenever he wanted. All he had to do was snatch them off his dumb face and put them on. It’d be over in less than 5 seconds. 

But no. He mentally chastised himself for wanting to jump the gun again. Self control. That’s what he told Rhino, and that’s what he needed to tell himself.

He just wanted a little fun first, and perhaps with some verbal cues here and there, he’d be able to persuade Beck into a hotel bed, or-

“Well, I think you’re… really mature for your age…” Beck purred, leaning forward.

Okay groomer.

Peter fought the urge to laugh at how cliché that line was. Telling someone young that they’re mature for their age was just a way of trying to make them feel more special than their peers. More superior. Like they’re something special, so they better keep acting like it. 

“You think so?

“I do.” Beck chuckled. “I bet this isn’t your first time drinking either is it?”

Apparently, seducing Beck was going to be a lot easier than he thought. 

“Pfffft, no!” Peter smiled. “I’ve totally drank before. Come on, let me try your drink.”

“Sure. If you can handle it.” Beck slid the glass of scotch across the bar, offering it to Peter’s waiting hand.

“I can handle it.” 

Peter took a sip from Becks glass, making a face as it burned down his throat, then immediately coughing. Beck burst into laughter as Peter struggled to regain his composure. 

It wasn’t an act, he was genuinely taken aback by how strong that drink had been. Whatever it was, it was _not_ scotch.

“What _is_ that?” He managed between coughs. He wasn’t granted an answer however, turning back to his lemonade in an attempt to clear his throat. “ _Wow_ that really burns.” He laughed nervously.

“Hmm… Yeah, no I don’t think drinking’s for you. Just stick to lemonade, babe.” Beck ruffled his hair, taking the glass back. 

Before he could bring it to his lips however, Peter stopped him with a hand around the one Beck had already wrapped around the glass.

He looked up warily at Mysterio, allowing his eyes to trace their way up his armor and settle on his lips as he pulled the cup back towards his own lips, leaning forward to take another slow sip.

He could see Beck swallow the lump in his throat and adjust himself in his seat to hide his growing arousal.

“I can take the burn.” He said slowly. “I can take all of it.”

Beck cleared his throat, a quiet, whining sound coming from his throat as he watched Peter down the alcohol, drops running down his chin as he finished the cup. “That was a lot, kid.”

“I can handle it. I swear.”

Beck ordered another glass.

At the age of 17 he really should not have as much drinking experience as he did. His tolerance for alcohol was amazing, coupled with his superior healing. He was on his 5th shot and he wasn’t even tipsy.

"Mr. Beck, I feel kinda dizzy." He clutched at his head, resting his elbow on the table, making sure to slur his words. He pushed the glass away. “I think tha’s’a nuff.”

“Dizzy’s normal, kid. You’re knocking back drinks faster than I can count. Why don’t you take it easy?” Quentin made a motion for another shot.

Knowing full well that Peter was already shitfaced, and barely coherent, and he was trying to order him more. Based on the way his eyes roamed up and down his spandex outfit, Peter was fully aware of the mans intentions, just as much so as Beck was fully aware of his age, and the fact that he had been in Europe on a high school trip.

What a creep.

Two shots and a conversation on beards later, Peter leaned himself on Beck's shoulder, his head dropping forward in his faux drunken state as he slurred out an “I don’t feel too good, sir. W-will y’take me back t’my hotel room?" 

“Why don’t we go back to mine. It’s closer.”

“Okay.” Peter purred in response, allowing himself to be helped off the barstool, and shuffled up the stairs. 

-

Quentin’s room was above the bar they were just in, meaning it was probably his crew below them right now, making the illusion look as seamless as possible. He wondered if they were okay with their boss fucking an underage teen in the room above.

“Mr. Beck,” He whined, tugging at the collar of his suit, “s’so hot in here…”

“I know, baby. Why don’t you take your suit off?” 

Peter pressed the spider in the center, the suit releasing its hold on him and allowing him to shimmy out of it. As he stepped out of the legs, he stumbled, falling to the ground and providing cover for his spider-drone to find a good angle to record from.

He heard a chuckle, looking up to see Quentin sat in a nearby recliner, golden mysterio armor already abandoned as he stroked himself through his scaly green suit.

Peter noted his position on the ground, chest down, ass up in an honestly slutty and suggestive pose, stripped down to his undies as his limbs lay tangled in the suit.

He whined, pathetically.

“Mr. Beck… please help me…”

“I’ll help you, baby.” He stroked himself faster. 

“Sir, please…”

“There’s something so beautiful about innocence.” Beck stood up. “So pure, so easily tainted.” 

He ran his hands down the curve of Peter’s back, savoring every shiver and whimper it elicited. “For example, you.” Beck leaned down to press a kiss to the back of Peter’s head. “Local, neighborhood hero. Looks out for the little guy. I know all about you, Peter, you’re as innocent as they come. But here we are. 7 shots of whiskey and a sedative later, you’re splayed across my hotel floor. On the bright side though, you won’t remember this in the morning.”

It was impressive how poorly Beck was able to keep up the hero act in the bedroom once he thought Peter wouldn’t remember it in the morning. Now the sedative in the drinks he hadn’t anticipated (or noticed, really), but Peter went ahead and mentally added ‘date rape’ to the growing list of Things Wrong With Quentin Beck.

Beck dragged his hands down to grab a handful of Peters ass, leaning forward and pulling at the waistband of his underwear until his hole was visible. Quentin admired it for a moment, poking and pushing into it with his thumb before spitting into it.

Peter keened, squirming under the mans firm grip. “MisserBeck whatre y’doing?” 

“I’m going to take care of you, Peter. You’re mature, aren’t you. Don’t you think you can handle it? I think you can.” Beck murmured, pushing his thumb into the hole. “In fact, I think you like this a lot.”

“P-please don’t- I, ah!” Beck spit into him again speeding up the push and pull of his thumb along Peter’s rim. “You’re gonna love this. You’re gonna beg me for more.”

“You're right. I’m gonna want you to hurt me. Are you gonna hurt me, daddy?”

“ _Fuck_ , you’re a little freak, aren’t you?” Beck leaned down biting one of Peter’s ass cheeks before slipping a second thumb into Peter’s hole, tugging him apart and placing his tongue into him as Peter wriggled beneath, arms still trapped in the sleeves of his suit.

“Hurt me. Make me feel something. Don’t stop no matter what I say. Just make it _hurt._ ”

“You’re asking for it.”

He felt a hand retreat from his hole, reaching forward instead to curl around his throat, pulling him up to his knees and pressing his back flush against the scale like fabric of Quentin’s suit. “Behave, or I'll snap your neck and end your miserable existence right here right now, naked and covered in my cum. Is that how you want people to find your body, Peter? Splayed out and dripping like the used whore you are?”

Quentin Beck, as it turned out, was a bit of a freak as well.

“N-no, sir.”

If he didn’t come out of this trip having won Beck as well, he’d kill him.

“Good. I’m going to take you over to that bed now and fuck you until you pass out, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“That’s a good boy right there.” Quentin bit down on his neck. Not bothering to lick it over after blood had been drawn, allowing it to mix with his saliva and snake it’s way down Peter’s porcelain skin.

Quentin grabbed a fistful of his hair, dragging him over to the bed as he yelped in pain, kicking and tugging at Becks hand. “Let me go! Please, wait, I-” 

Beck slapped him across the cheek, silencing him. “You were asking for this, slut.”

“Don’t do this, sir, I’ll do anything, just please-”

“Shut up.” Beck shoved him face down over the bed, unzipping his suit to pull his cock out and position it over Peter’s unprepped hole. He grabbed both of Peters wrists in one hand, holding them firmly against his back as he held his cock in the other, rubbing the tip over Peter’s hole, experimentally pushing the tip in and out, teasing him.

“Wait wait wait!” Peter yelled, squirming.

Beck pushed in, spit from before slicking the way in, blood being the only other lubricant he was going to get. He felt alive.

Peter bit down on the bed sheets as Quentin tore his hole open, groaning as he bottomed out in one go. The tears were instinctual based purely on the pain alone, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. The high of feeling so much pain mingling with the pleasure of his prostate being stimulated had him thrumming with excitement.

The sobbing on the other hand, that was all for show.

“It hurts! It hurts, please- please Mr. Beck, let me go!” He choked, disguising a moan as he felt the length filling him up in ways he only dreamed of since he first laid eyes on Mysterio. Beck was a lot bigger than he thought, thicker, for sure. He clenched his hole around the length drawing a moan out of the man above him.

As he shook in excitement, Peter felt glad his face was hidden from the camera from the angle he was at, seeing as there was no way he could hide his blissed out smile, and the puddle of drool gathering around his open, gaping mouth.

There was something about the pure pain he was feeling, coupled with the feeling of blood running down his thighs to stain the white hotel bed sheets below them. Well, that was until he felt the hands around his wrist release and begin stroking his hair instead.

Beck was petting him softly, whispering soothing words into his ear. Soft “it’s okay”’s and “I’m so sorry if I hurt you”’s.

Peter stilled, turning his body so he could look at Beck with his red eyes, one eyebrow raised incredulously. “Dude, what are you doing? This is a total turn off.” He deadpanned, rolling his eyes a bit.

“I… What?”

“Come on are you serious? Don’t tell me you can’t handle a little rough play. Don’t _soothe_ me, Quentin. _Fuck_ _me_.”

Beck pulled out slowly, experimentally thrusting back in sharply and making Peter keen with need. “You mean like that? You like how I feel inside you?” He whispered, pulling Peter up by the hips so his ass was poised more in the air. “Oh fuck, r-right there. Harder, sir.” Peter choked, his breath catching in his throat as his prostate was stimulated. Beck thrust in again, harder and nearly punching the air out of his lungs. Peter whined, dropping his head and falling back into his role of the helpless victim. With his power set, giving up control was intoxicating.

“Please let me go.”

“I don’t think so.” Beck moved his hands up Peter’s chest, fingers clamping down around a nipple and twisting, hard, prompting a genuine yelp from him. Peter twisted his body a bit to try and escape from the fingers, or at least get an angle that didn’t hurt as much to no avail. “Aw, you’re so sensitive there. What about here?” He twisted again, hard, and Peter shrieked.

“Why are you doing this to me?” He whispered between sobs, softly fucking himself on Becks cock. He continued rolling Peters nipple between his fingers as he pulled out to the tip, roughly fucking back in. “Because you want this. You were practically throwing yourself at me all night, teasing me like the little slut you are.”

“Oh fuck that’s good,” Peter moaned, “degrade me, sir, put me in my place. Let off some steam, come on.” He’d have to cut that audio out of the recording later, but that shouldn’t be a big deal.

“After the battle, when I was hurt, you fell into my arms,” he groaned, pushing his cock in until they were flushed up against one another, allowing Beck to drop his voice to a whisper. “You were on top of me, practically rutting yourself against me. That’s when I knew I had to have you.”

Beck backed off as he fucked into him, one hand on his chest, the other one still holding Peter’s wrists together against his back, using them as leverage as he pounded into his ruined hole.

“Your cock’s rock hard, kid. Looks like you’re having just as much fun as I am. You get off on pleasing men like me? You get off on whoring yourself out to anyone with a bit of authority? Fucking pathetic.” He growled, biting into the other side of Peter’s neck hard enough to draw blood again. Peter whined, kicking his legs a bit as he let Beck ravage, degrade, and hurt him. 

He felt a sharp pain in the back of his thigh, where Beck had brought his knee down to hold him in place. “Stop squirming, or this is gonna hurt a lot more.” Peter let himself fall limp, but the knee didn’t let up, only pushing harder into his thigh with every thrust that Beck forced onto him. Squirming only made it worse, so all he could do really, was lay there as he was assaulted, over and over, soft grunts and debauching moans filling the hotel walls, accompanied by the smack of skin against skin. “Please, sir…”

Peter could feel the twitch of Beck’s dick within him, his movements becoming more erratic as Peter begged him. “Please what?”

Lax as he was to admit it, he was on the brink as well, his own dick trapped between himself and the mattress getting unending friction every time Beck moved them. “Please d-don’t cum inside me. I- you’ve already taken my virginity, sir and-” he cut himself off with a moan as Beck tugged at his hair, licking a stripe up the side of Peter’s cheek. “And, what? Tell me baby boy, what else?”

He could tell Quentin wasn’t going to last any longer with how fast and shallow he was thrusting into his ass, breathing getting heavier and heavier as small moans escaped his lips, hot breath tingling the lobe of his ear. He had to make the cumshot count. 

“Mr. Beck, I’m- I don’t wanna- Please, sir I’m only 17, I’m- _ngh_!”

He was cut off by a bruising kiss, Beck grabbing him by the chin and capturing his lips as he came inside of him, hard. His hips gyrated as he milked his own orgasm, Peter’s name spilling like a prayer as he filled the boy with cum.

As the hot, thick liquid filled up his insides, he knew he’d practically won. With a little bit of editing, he had himself a beautiful secret little sextape featuring worldwide hero Mysterio raping an underage teen. He’d never admit it out loud, but the absolute euphoria of knowing he’d succeeded, coupled with his already overstimulated everything was what tipped him over the edge. He came all over the mattress, seed sticking to his stomach, which was a bit gross, but he was willing to look past it.

He lay there, on his chest, panting hard as Beck finally rolled off of him, pulling him into a cuddle immediately. “Are you okay, hon?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be? That was hot, we should do it again.”

Beck chuckled, reaching over to the bedside table to pick up the EDITH glasses, slipping them onto his face.

“Were you ever drunk, kid?”

“Not really. Super healing kinda prevents me from getting hammered off of a few shots alone. Didn’t even notice the sedative.”

Beck was silent for a bit, seemingly reading something on the glasses interface.

“Why do you always have those glasses on? What’s the big deal with EDITH anyways?” Peter quickly changed the subject. He rolled over to face Beck, looking at him with the most innocent, wide doe-eyes he could.

“Well, you heard Fury, they gotta be protected. Nowhere’s safer than my face.”

“No one else is here though.” He blinked.

“O-oh. Are you protecting EDITH from… me? Look, I’m sorry I was so weird earlier, it’s kind of a kink of mine to be taken against my will, a-and I understand if you think I’m a freak-”

“No! No, no baby, it’s not that. You were amazing.” Beck pulled him into his arms. “I’m just… constantly working. You understand.”

Peter nodded, burying his face into Beck’s chest. 

After a moment of silence, Quentin finally spoke up.

“What do you know about Parker?” 

Peter hummed. He hadn’t expected Beck to go digging through EDITH’s coding, but that had been his specialty back then. Either way, now he was asking about _him_ , not knowing it was him. 

“I know he was supposed to be Iron Man’s protege. But apparently something went wrong, and he turned out to be a bad guy, but other than that, not much.”

Beck nodded, taking the glasses off.

“This has to be the weirdest pillow talk ever.” Peter laughed, pulling forward to kiss him.

Beck sighed, melting into it.

“It really might be, but I’m just… really glad I got to meet you, Peter. I like you a lot. Is that crazy?”

Peter wanted to laugh at the amateurity of Beck's manipulative lingo. Beck, who had lured him, an underage boy, up to his hotel room for some quick ass was now trying to convince him that this was love. If he were any more naive, he may have bought it.

“I’m honestly so new at this whole… hero thing. And meeting you, well, I don't know, for the first time, I feel like I can do this.” Quentin pulled him closer. Peter felt his breath hitch as they lay there, Beck cuddling him and pressing a kiss to his temple, staring longingly into his eyes with that dreamy, faraway look...

Maybe it was genuine.

Either way, he could use it to his advantage.

“I like you a lot too, Mr. Beck.”

Quentin beamed, leaning forward to kiss his lips again and again. “That’s fantastic, baby. We’re gonna do so much good in this world.”

-

They wrapped up the paperwork at Europol, and were left to enjoy their vacation, as Fury noted they weren’t needed back in the states for another week at least. Beck seemed to take full advantage of this little token of information to fuck Peter on every surface of their hotel room.

Peter noted how he kept treating him like he was made of damn glass. Like he’d shatter if they played a little too rough, even though nothing was ever like the first time. The pure bliss of being absolutely dominated and degraded under someone like Beck, who hadn’t even bothered to take his own suit off.

Meanwhile, his wonderful friends back in the states were beginning to ask questions as to the status of his mission. Normie, little psychopath that he was, had sent him a handgun in the express mail to take Beck out with when they were done. “Or just for protection. You never know. Could get caught in a gunfight, and I can guarantee you, Spidey, bullets are much much faster than webbing. Scarier too.”

He wasn’t wrong, of course, but Peter seriously doubted he’d ever need it, seeing as they were due back to New York in 2 days, and the fact that he had Quentin fully wrapped around his finger.

Now though, now he had Beck below him, fully nude, hands gripping his hips as he moaned into his lips. “Slow down, Peter, I wanna see you enjoying this.” 

“I am.”

The one thing that never seemed to happen though, was EDITH. 

Sure, he was building Beck’s trust, but it was so slow moving, he considered just straight up asking for the glasses at this point. Or maybe ripping them off that smug bastard's face. Beck wore the glasses to bed. _To bed._

Peter drove his hips down as he rode the man below him, earning him a growly groan that was pure music to his ears. 

Yes, he had a mission, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have fun. And Beck was one of the best lays he’d ever had. He’d miss their little ‘love-making’ sessions, but on the bright side, once he saw the real Peter, the hatefucking he’d get out of it was bound to be spectacular.

“M-Mr. Beck,” Peter palmed the mans chest, clawing at the hairy expanse, and whining high in his throat as he leaned down to steal a kiss, peppering them from his lips, the tip of his nose, to the bridge of EDITH’s frames. “You look um, really good in glasses.” 

Beck laughed, thrusting his hips sharply upwards, holding Peter mere inches from his face as he smirked. “You like my glasses?”

“Y-yes sir, um, do you think I could… try them on?” The sooner he got to drop his pathetic, whiny teenager act the better off he’d be.

Beck's face faltered, only for a moment before recovering to his usual smirk. “Well, I don’t see why not, princess.” He relaxed his hips, Peter easing backwards to stay connected to him as he pulled the frames off his face. “Here, baby, I bet they’ll look great on you.”

Peter could barely control his mouth, which fell open on it’s own. He hadn’t expected a yes. With how protective Beck was over the glasses, he had just been trying to prime him with the question. Plant the idea in his mind, save it for a rainy day. He wasn’t expecting a yes on the first try.

With shaky hands, he felt the frames of EDITH on his fingertips, warm from staying on Beck’s face all night. He sat back, letting himself be fully seated on Beck's cock as he slipped them over his closed eyes, a wolfish grin crawling across his lips. That was beyond his control.

Utilizing a bit of his superstrength, he held himself down on Beck, bouncing ever so slightly, just enough to stimulate his prostate, but not enough to let the man really move. 

Slowly, he opened his eyes, letting the iris scan identify him.

“So what do you think?” Beck asked, holding onto Peter’s waist, “pretty cool, huh?”

The obliviousness in Quentin’s voice was too good, knowing full well that it was about to be absolutely destroyed in seconds.

“How do I look?” He couldn’t contain his malicious smile, canines on full display as he stared down at Beck.

 _“Welcome back, Peter.”_ EDITH’s voice sounded off in his ear.

“Wait, how do you have per-”

Peter found himself grateful for the automatic continuous recording EDITH was equipped with, because the way Quentins face fell from content bliss, draining to a pale panic, was almost orgasmic.

“Parkers not a first name.” Peter ground his hips down in a circle.

“Y-your last name’s not-” 

“Legally, it hasn’t been since 2016, but if you dig just a little earlier…” He lifted his hips, fucking himself on Beck as he attempted to make a lunge for the glasses. Peter simply grabbed a wrist in each hand, pushing forward to pin them to the bed. It was barely an exertion of his strength just to execute the move. “Peter, stop it this isn’t funny!”

Peter moaned, holding Beck still beneath him, squirming as Peter continued to ride him, hips moving sensually as he groaned out the command he had been longing for ever since the discovery of EDITH’s new ownership. “ _Ngh-_ EDITH, revoke admin permissions from Quentin Beck.” He groaned, moving his hips faster.

“No!”

_“Permissions revoked.”_

“That’s fantastic, I think I’m gonna cum.” He smiled, leaning down to suck a mark on Beck’s neck.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck _fuck!_ ” Beck thrashed around to no avail, sufficiently pinned beneath him as Peter rode him harder, panting and moaning as he nibbled at Beck’s chest, teeth closing around a nipple as he yelped in pain.

“Peter, stop! Stop! I don’t wanna do this anymore, let me go!”

“No, I think you’re close, Mr. Beck.” He moaned, speeding up as he bounced on his cock, impaling himself over and over, hips moving in small circles every time he bottomed out. “I can feel you inside me, sir. I can’t wait to feel you fill me up again.”

“Stop! Get off of me, now!”

“No!” Peter snapped. “No, I think you want to cum inside of me. I think you wanna fill my underage hole with your hot, sticky seed, sir. Or do you suddenly have morals now?”

Quentin turned away, the tears in his eyes evident as Peter rode him harder, hands already leaving bruises around his wrists. “You were asking for this, slut.”

“T-that was just talk, Peter get off! I don’t want this, I don’t- _mmph!_ ”

Peter crashed his lips onto Quentins to shut him up. He thanked the higher power that he was gifted with increased stamina as he felt himself near his climax, his moans and whines getting louder and louder. When Beck's hips began moving along on their own as well, chasing his own finish, Peter knew he’d won. “There you are,” he purred.

Beck didn’t meet his eyes, head turned aside as he sped up, then stilled with clenched eyes and a grunt. Peter grinned.

He ground down, letting the cum overflow and drip down, waiting until Beck finished filling him up to cum himself. He rubbed his cock against Quentin’s stomach until he came, thick white ropes falling over Beck's chest and dripping down onto his neck.

“Thank you, Mr. Beck, I think that’s probably the hardest I’ve ever cum like, ever.” He got up, letting the flaccid cock fall out of him, planting a small kiss on Beck’s nose before finally releasing his wrists. He stood back to admire the mess he had made out of the illusionist. “You smell more like sweat now than you did after that fire elemental battle.”

Leg shaped bruises around his hips and thighs where Peter had held him down, handprints around his wrists, cum dripping down his chest, and those gorgeous tears running down his cheeks as he lay there, unmoving. It was a gorgeous sight to behold.

“You lied to me.” He finally said. “You’re sick, you- you used me.”

“As if you’re so honest. I know who you are. Who you really are. These rightfully belong to me anyhow.”

“You bitch.”

Peter put a finger to his lips, shushing him. He sat down on the edge of the bed, running his fingers through Quentin’s sweat matted hair. “You know what I think? Well, for starters, I think you and your crew are a liability,” Beck looked like he was about to ask a question, but Peter carried on. “Oh yes, I know about your crew, your illusions, blah blah blah, you’re not as smart as you think you are. EDITH?”

_“Yes, Peter?”_

“Set a target for everyone Beck has on payroll.”

“Wait, wait hey. You think I care about them?”

“I do.”

“No. Babe, th-they’re just a means to an end, they’re nothing, they’re-”

_“Targets set. Would you like to execute the kill-order?”_

The drones that had been in their room uncloaked themselves. There were at least a dozen.

“Okay stop, stop stop, Peter, please, please don’t. Please they’re just people. They’re innocent!”

Peter crouched down, placing a finger under Quentin’s chin, tilting it up so their eyes met. “You may be a fraud, but you’re still human. You’ve got a big ol’ heart in there. So yes, you most definitely care.”

A heavy silence filled the air.

“Tell your people to pack it up. We’re going to London.”

“London? Why London?”

“For the final show, of course. Heavier population. Scenic. It turns out, the fire elemental _wasn’t_ the last of them.” Peter turned around to face Quentin again “It turns out, it's all the Elementals!” He started dramatically. “They're somehow merged into something… into something else. Something more powerful. It's drawing energy from the Earth's core!”

Beck gave him a confused look. 

“I know the elementals are fake, babe, just work with me here. One final hurrah in London. You and I play hero, and I don’t tell Fury you’re full of shit. It’ll be fun, come on.”

“I thought you were an actual hero, kid.” 

“What, you think the villains in New York evade prison on their own? You think they’re smart enough to pull off heists without help? You think I’m dumb enough to let them escape? No, if it were up to me, and it has been up to me several times before, crackshot villains like Rhino wouldn’t be in prison they’d be dead. If they don’t want to die, they can choose their only other option: me.”

Realization seemed to dawn on Beck’s face as he sat up abruptly. “You’re behind _all_ of it? _You’re_ the one organizing crime and villains in the city?”

Peter beamed with pride, climbing back into Beck’s lap and slinging his arms around his shoulders. “You made up these elementals. You destroyed cities, and people have _died_ from your attempts to play hero. That makes you a villain. I also learned that your only address on any of your accounts, fake identity or non, is in New York City, which makes you a villain in _my_ city. I own you now, Beck. You’re mine. Or you’re dead.”

Beck’s lips flattened into a hard line, eyes defiantly looking up at the teen in his lap. He didn’t say anything.

“Hey, it’s okay. I actually really like you.” Peter brought him into a hug. “You got really far, and I’m sure you and I can go even further. You’re competent.”

A hand slowly raised to pat his back. A halfhearted reciprocation of the hug. “I… like you too, Peter.” Quentin said warily. Peter knew he was only saying it to survive, but that was part of what made it good.

“So anyways, London?”

-

There was a very short list of things he couldn’t pass up and Beck was now one of them. 

“EDITH, can you make the elemental just a smidge bigger? I need more drones on the east side, the piers aren’t as damaged as I’d like.” There was a roar as the elemental fusion illusion grew, it’s hand swiping at a pier as controlled bullets decimated them into driftwood. From where he and Beck were standing on the Tower Bridge, he could watch as frightened bystanders jumped into the water and away from the blast.

“Peter, honey, don’t you think you’re going a little overboard on the um, the people? Maybe you should, y’know ease up on human casualties.” Beck shuffled back and forth on his feet from where he stood behind Peter. 

He ignored him, observing as one drone was shot down, knocking it out of commission. Another one flew down to take its place immediately, keeping the illusion as smooth sailing as it had been seconds ago. “EDITH works like a dream.” Peter sighed.

“Peter, Beck, where are you two on the scene? We need immediate rescue response to the pier.” Fury’s voice commanded over their earpiece. “You even think about tipping him off, and I’ll make your life worse than it can be.”

“What else could you possibly do to me.” Beck whispered. 

“You’re gonna be a real famous _villain_ , Quentin, but you wouldn’t want to be a kiddy diddler on top of that now would you?” Peter winked, turning back to face the glass, “I’m on my way, I- _hrrg!”_ He made a pained sound, “hold that thought.”

“On your left, Spider-Man.” Beck said into his mic, his voice winded and out of breath as if he’d really been fighting for the past 2 hours. Quentin was all kinds of perfect, really.

They muted their mics, letting the illusion go on.

“I thought you said we were both gonna play hero.” Beck murmured.

“Don’t get juvenile on me, Beck, now’s not the time to argue about who gets to be what on the playground. It doesn’t matter anyway.”

“It matters when it’s literally my entire life and reputation on the line.”

“What are you talking about? Your reputation is gonna be insane. You’re gonna be known as the one who was able to trick Fury and all of SHIELD. That’s massive.”

Beck looked back out the window.

They watched in silence as ‘Mysterio’ and ‘Spider-Man’ fought off the elemental fusion, only breaking the silence to funnel words and scripted lines to Fury. 

“Oh, here, this is my favorite part.” Peter smiled, scooting closer to Beck. He shyly touched his hand to the older man’s, as if he was nothing more than a teenager with a crush. Which, he sort of was. Kid had a psychopathic streak, but he was still a kid. 

He could beat a kid.

Reluctantly, Beck held his hand.

Turning his attention back to the window, he watched as the illusion on the elemental dropped, revealing all the drones by the dozens. “Peter! Beck, what the hell is this?”

“Wait, Fury, something’s wrong. Oh no, no I think it’s- it’s EDITH. Fury, it’s Be-” Peter crushed his mic under his boot as the illusion fully dropped. Thousands of drones flooded the sky.

Quentin’s face dropped, as he saw what Peter had done. Those were EDITH’s drones. The only one with access to EDITH would be him, seeing as Fury still had no idea who Peter really was, nor that Peter was now in control of said glasses. By dropping the illusion, Peter had turned Mysterio into a villain almost instantaneously. SHIELD would never help him, would never believe him. All he had left was… Peter.

“You set me up.” He breathed.

He knew Peter would make him a villain, but he didn’t think he’d pin _everything_ on him. This was irrecoverable.

“I need you, Beck. I gotta keep you. Besides, you were already a villain, I’m just showing the world who you really are.”

Quentin reached for his controls, he needed to get a hold of his team, his crew, hopefully they could shut it down from the inside, or- 

“Ah ah, not so fast now.” Peter tapped his head with something heavy and metallic. At the click of the safety, it was undeniable that there was a gun to his head. He raised his arms slowly. “I’ve got a dozen drones, all set on your crew. You fuck with my plan in any way, and they die.”

Beck looked down at the kid and stared back, huge eyes silently pleading for mercy for his unsuspecting teammates. “Peter, hon, don’t do this. They’re- they’re innocent.”

“Actually, they’re a liability. As long as they’re alive, you’ll never truly be loyal to me.” Peter mused.

“That’s not true. I’m loyal. I can prove it to you, please don’t hurt them, I swear, I’ll do anything.”

“It’s you or them Beck. And I’ll kill you myself. No drones, just me and my .45 because baby, it’s personal. Now choose.”

Beck swallowed. “I-I’m choosing you.”

“That’s I think, the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” A piteous expression colored Peter’s face, “You’ll still care about them though. EDITH?”

“ _Yes, Peter?_ ”

“Execute them all.”

“NO!”

Muffled screaming and gunshots could be heard coming from Peter's headset, indifferent expression never leaving him as he pet the back of Beck’s head with the barrel of the gun. “Hey, it’s okay. You have me.”

“What do you want?!” Beck whirled around, knocking the gun aside. Peter let it swing right with a sigh, dropping his arm with a shrug.

“What I’ve always wanted. I wanna save the world.”

“I just- just wanted to _help_ people…” Beck stood up, slamming his fist into the window. “I just wanted to give them something to believe in.”

“You will help people. You’ve helped me get EDITH back, you’re about to make me London’s new favorite hero too. Oh! And you’ll help me keep this hero shtick up. People are getting sick of the Green Goblin, but oh, they are gonna _love_ you.”

“You’re sick.”

“So are you.”

Beck swung at him, which he knew to be a mistake, but he couldn’t handle it any longer. Peter killed his friends, his reputation. He couldn’t go to Fury for help, he was the one who had initially deceived him with illusion tech in the first place. He had nowhere to go. All he had now, was the kid. And he was swinging at him.

Peter met each fist with an open palm, A fleet of six drones uncloaked themselves, surrounding Peter protectively. “Beck, stop, you know this is pointless.”

Quentin grabbed Peter’s wrists, kneeing him in the stomach. Peter gasped, clutching his middle in pain as Beck landed a right hook on his jaw, sending the EDITH glasses flying down the bridge walkway as Beck decked him across the face, dropping him to the ground.

Peter got up on his elbows, wiping the blood as it ran down his nose with a smirk. “Babe, I think you broke my nose.”

Quentin punched him again, drawing a light giggle from the kid below him. “Mr. Beck, stop it.” 

As he threw another punch, Peter caught the fist, gripping it with one hand as the other dealt with the bloody nose. “Beck.”

“I trusted you! I-I really liked you! You-”

“Beck!” Peter barked. Quentin went quiet, staring angrily down at Peter, who still held his closed fist in one hand. “The only reason you’re not fucking dead right now, is because I actually really like you. Don’t- woah!” He dodged a headbutt with a growl, gripping the collar of Beck’s mocap suit and bringing them nose to nose. 

“Try it again, I dare you.”

In his other hand, he held Beck’s wrist, squeezing. “This is your right hand, Mr. Beck. It’d be a real shame if I ended up having to kill you because you suck at giving handjobs with your leftie.”

Peter threw him back by the collar, sending Beck rolling to the ground with a thud, the glass bridge walkway cracking dangerously beneath. Peter strode down to his side, picking him up by his hair and raising his head until he could comfortably whisper in his ear. “If you ever try that shit again, I’ll make you regret it.” He slammed his face down on the glass, raising it up again to continue. “Don’t forget, I’m stronger than you. In every way. If you ever get to dominate me, it’s because I let you.”

Beck only groaned in response as Peter released his grip on his hair, watching as he slumped to the ground in a pile.

“Get the fuck up.”

He complied, whimpering as the glass cracked even further, threatening to break and send him plummeting down towards the concrete.

“Now apologize to me.” Peter drew his gun, shooting a hole in the already shattering glass walkway. “Apologize, and we can move past this.”

“Honey, I’m s-” before he could get the word out, the glass suddenly gave out, and Beck felt himself fall down, and down. Before he hit concrete however, he felt the stretch and pull of _something_ catch him. He looked upward in almost disappointment. Of course, Peter had caught him, sympathetic smile on his devilish lips and all.

“I didn’t catch that.” He called, bringing Beck back up to the bridge, hoisting him in and holding him at eye level. “Tell me again.”

“I’m so sorry b-baby. I’m sorry for everything. Can we- can we move past this?”

Peter kissed his nose, pulling away to gaze into those bright blues he’d come to grow so attached to. “Okay.” 

Beck nodded, letting his head fall, mind still reeling from his near death experience, and spinning in anger at the loss of his entire crew. He clambered away from the hole in the floor on shaky legs, and slumped onto the side of the bridge.

“Why the fuck did you kill them, Peter.” He asked in a small voice. When he didn't get a response, he turned to face the kid. “Why?!”

He was suddenly met with a gun held to the center of his forehead, and a very annoyed looking Peter shushing him with one finger to his lips. “Sh sh shhh… That’s enough now, don’t you think?” His finger danced haphazardly along the trigger, almost stroking it as he stared sympathetically into Quentin's eyes.

“Okay fine,” he gulped, “fine you win. You win, I’m with you, I swear.”

“You’re just saying that now.” Peter tapped the barrel to his skin. “Just so I won’t shoot you.”

He stood up, swallowing his fear and towering over the kid.

_He could take a kid._

“Peter, please.” He started confidently, “I know you’re a good kid, look I _know_ -” his words died in his throat as Peter clicked the safety off. “No. We’re not playing this game again. The game where you pretend to be strong, and try to overpower me, only to fail miserably, blah blah blah, let's just cut to the chase, get on your _fucking_ knees, Beck.”

Quentin did as he was told, both hands in the air as he lowered himself to the ground one knee at a time. 

He stared up as defiantly as he could. Looking at Peter, he couldn’t help but feel a longing, like he was missing something. What they could have been, perhaps if Peter wasn't a literal psychopath. 

“Say you love me.” 

“But-” He was cut off by a yelp as Peter shot a hole into the glass below his knee, the ground dangerously spider webbing in cracks as Beck shifted his weight away. He knew what it’d felt like to fall uncontrollably, and he was not ready to experience it again.

He gulped, “I l-love... you…” 

“That’s so much better.” Peter smiled, webbing up where the bullet hole was and holding the glass together. Of course, he could have done that earlier, but it was about sending a message then. “See how much easier everything works when you cooperate?”

“Yeah, kid, I’m sorry.” 

“You look so much better like this anyways. Kneeling in front of me, I mean.” Peter lowered the gun, stepping forward to run his hands through Becks hair, scratching at his scalp. 

“Stay, puppy.” He kissed the top of his head, walking past him to pick up EDITH where she had been flung across the bridge.

Beck turned his head to look at him, only for a bullet to go whizzing past his head, an inch away from his face. It may have just been an imagination, but he swore it clipped some of his hair. He quickly faced forward again, heart pounding, helpless as he could do nothing but listen as Peter put the glasses on. “Hello, EDITH.”

“Welcome back, Mr. Parker.”

“So glad to have you back.” Peter strode over to where Quentin was kneeling, bending forward to encapsulate the man in his arms from behind. He leaned his head forward to smell the blood in Quentin’s hair. “We’re gonna do so many fun things together.”

**Author's Note:**

> Fitzpatrick is Peter's mother's maiden name.
> 
> To sum up the timeline:  
> May and Ben Parker die when Peter gets his powers, but he keeps their death a secret and carries on life. Desperate for recognition after a life of being ignored, he does heroic acts, but it's all staged, really. It's enough to catch Tony Stark's attention though. Cue the events of Civil War.  
> Afterwards, Tony mentors Peter in secret and lets him work on EDITH, because Peter's an honest to god genius. In exchange, Tony helps Peter hide his identity from SHIELD, assuming he's doing it to protect his family. Along the way, he finds out Peter isn't a real hero, but the exact opposite. Peter controls all of his "villains". He tries to erase Peter from the system, but a week later, Thanos happens. EDITH gets put away and the only thing Tony manages to do in the code is leave a note to the next person who accesses it (Fury) saying that it can't be given to the other admin, "Parker". So Fury gives it to the next capable hero, Mysterio. Peter finds out EDITH's location, and heads to Europe to steal it, finds out Beck is also a villain and decides he wants to keep him. He succeeds.


End file.
